Sleepwalking
by usakeh
Summary: This story consists of some missing scenes from Noel and stars Josh and Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Josh slammed his fist down on his desk, scattering a pile of papers to the floor. He sat still for a minute; then he took a quick look at his watch, his forehead furrowing in frustration. The meeting was in half an hour. He was supposed to see a lawyer from a swing state and discuss several pending cases in the state's court with him; he was supposed to show the administration's appreciation for the attorney's strong support; he was supposed to be charming and convincing and articulate and he felt absolutely anything but.

He also was supposed to have prepared for the meeting last night. But no. He'd been too tired, so he'd slouched down on the sofa and stared at the television until day broke. He hadn't slept in three days; he'd just about given up on attempting to. The result was not entirely what he had expected. He wasn't exhausted. Instead, he felt more wired and nervous than ever. It was only in the key moments when he needed to work that he found himself growing weary, his thoughts clustering and colliding together incoherently. He'd drunk a cup of coffee; it had only made it worse, turning his disorientation into distress, irritation, anger.

"Josh?"

He jumped up from his seat, spilling another pile of paper to the floor. Josh slowed his breathing as best he could. Sam had startled him, just calling his name like that. What had he been thinking? Couldn't he tell he was already tense enough as it was?

"What're you trying to do, sneak into the room and give me a heart attack?"

"Actually, I'm trying to tell you that the President scheduled an extra meeting tonight."

"What?"

"There's an extra meeting tonight to discuss tomorrow's speech."

"You're kidding."

Sam shook his head and Josh sighed heavily, getting to his feet and beginning to pace back and forth across the room. His pulse was racing and he felt restless as a result, as if the room was too small for him. He needed more space, more air to breathe.

"What, you got a date or something?" Josh turned towards Sam, eyes narrowed. He wasn't in the mood for Sam's lame jokes. What would be so usual about him going out on a date, anyway? The only reason he didn't date more often was because he was too busy spending all his time, not to mention risking his _life_, for his job! "Josh?"

"What?"

"Are you all right?" Josh strode over to Sam, fury flooding through him.

"Yes, I am fine." He paused. "I am perfectly fine, Sam, except that you and the rest of the staff are attempting to drive me mad by asking me whether or not I'm fine every five minutes. I'm just a little stressed, you see, because I have a meeting in twenty minutes and I don't know the first thing about it because somebody neglected to let me know I had it until last night! And obviously I couldn't do it last night, as I – well, forget it. Just forget it." The words rushed out in rapid succession, one syllable sliding into the next. Sam raised an eyebrow. Josh certainly had an awfully short fuse lately, to say the least.

"Okay." Sam watched his friend for a second, started to turn away, and then gave him a second glance. "You really ought to cut down on the coffee there, though, or else you'll really have a heart attack. I was just doing some reading for a lobby that wants to stop serving coffee in school cafeteria–"

"What do you mean, cut down on the coffee?" Josh felt strangely argumentative. If Sam wanted to bother him, he'd have to deal with the consequences.

"Josh, your hands are shaking." Josh stared down at his hands and then quickly clasped them together behind his back. "Have you been sleeping?"

"WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP ASKING ME THAT?" Josh stepped back behind his desk and picked up a paperweight, holding the cold stone in his hand. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt a sudden impulse surge up in him and he quickly put it back in its place. For a moment he thought he was watching the glass that flew up out of the car window at Rosslyn fall through the air again; a moment later the image was gone and he realized how close he'd really come to hurling the paperweight at his office window until the thin barrier broke just as spectacularly. It would have felt so…

…right.

Meanwhile, Sam was still speaking to him.

"Did you hear what I just said, Josh?" Sam frowned. "What's going on? I mean, no offense or anything, but have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like you're about to pass out." It was sort of scary, even. His friend's face, usually so full of animation, had gone gaunt, ghostly.

"I'm not tired." Josh's reply was just a bit too hurried. "I'm fine." Sam watched as the young deputy began anxiously tapping his fingers against his desk. It was true, after all; he wasn't at all tired. If anything his thoughts were too rapid, racing through his mind so fast he could no longer categorize them. Then there were the periodic bouts of near panic that always seemed to be hovering about him. How could he be tired when he felt danger encroaching from every corner? No wonder he could never sleep.

"Are you, I mean, are you sure?"

"YES." Josh closed his eyes for a second and rubbed his hand across his forehead. What was he supposed to say? That he hadn't slept in three days? That he felt that his thoughts were flying by so fast that he couldn't concentrate on anything anymore? That he still heard sirens sweeping through the halls? That he couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that something was terribly, terribly, terribly _wrong_ with him? Josh leaned against his desk dizzily. Everything was spinning. Disconnected words and phrases were fighting for his attention and he couldn't stop, couldn't slow down, couldn't–

Josh felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around, startled again. It was Sam. Josh shuddered, sure that his heart would burst if it beat any faster. He began to speak, but Sam silenced him and helped him back into his chair. A second later Josh grabbed Sam's hand and held it against his chest. Sam shifted awkwardly and placed his other hand on Josh's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Josh." Sam's voice was soft, low, comforting. Josh glanced up at him, reading the worry written across the younger man's face. Despite his calming tone Sam was nervous too. "Just relax." Josh leaned forward and rested his head on the desk; Sam held both his hands on his shoulders. "Just relax."

"If I…could…relax…this…wouldn't…be…a…problem…in…the…first…place."

Gripping him tighter, Sam allowed a slight grin to slip over his features. Though he could barely breathe, Josh had managed to sound better than he had in days. Still, Sam couldn't help feeling frightened by his friend's behavior. After his explosion in front of the President, Leo had reassured him that Josh was going to find help and asked him if he could spend five minutes speaking to a man from ATVA over the phone. Sam had described Josh's recent behavior; the man from ATVA had asked him questions. At one point, he'd wanted to know if he'd ever seen Josh start to panic without provocation. Sam had told him that he'd seen Josh react strangely, but never quite panic. Until now…

At least it wasn't entirely unexpected, Sam told himself. The therapist had asked him about it for a reason; clearly, this sort of reaction wasn't entirely undocumented. He had just never seen it happen like this, before.

"Okay."

Sam turned just in time to see Josh slowly raise his head from his desk and lean back in his chair. His voice was steadier now; though it still sounded weak, Sam breathed a long sigh of relief. The wildness he'd seen in Josh's eyes when he'd first stepped in was fading fast.

"Are you all right?" Sam stumbled over the words. "Well, I mean, are you–"

"Yeah." Josh paused, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "I think so." The older man took a quick glance at the door. Good. It had been closed. He hadn't even thought to check. If Sam hadn't shut it everyone would have seen it happen. Everyone. Josh took a deep breath. His thoughts were slowing, and he felt sleepy. Sometimes he felt more energetic and tense after panicking; sometimes the effect was just the opposite. Hopefully he'd finally managed to burn the energy out of his blood once and for all. He turned towards Sam. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. I didn't–"

"It's okay, Josh." Josh was shakily getting to his feet; as he did so Sam stepped towards him and immediately pulled him close. The seconds passed silently as Josh leaned against Sam, listening to the beating of the taller man's heart. It was slow, steady. Calming. "You don't need to explain it," Sam whispered. "I just want you to be all right." Sam paused, letting Josh break free of his embrace and sit back in his chair.

"It's fine. I'm okay." Sam shook his head.

"No, Josh. It's not fine. You're not okay." The younger man sighed. "Look, I'm not going to stand here and let this happen to my best friend, all right?" He paused again. "Leo told me. I spoke to the ATVA guy last night, okay? He's going to help you." Sam felt Josh stiffen in his seat. "I'm not telling you this to try and make you angry. I just–"

"I know." Josh waved aside the rest of the remark. He would have been more embarrassed had he been less exhausted, but at this point it didn't even seem to matter anymore. There was the meeting, which he was probably already late to. Plus, he was completely unprepared – not to mention the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open. Josh struggled to his feet, yawning. "I know. But I gotta go, Sam. I've got a thing. Some Congressman, or lawyer. From Wisconsin. You gotta let me go. I'm okay now. I'm okay."

"You should sleep." Sam shook his head. "I'd rather see you fall asleep here than in front of the guy from Wisconsin so you're going to stay here and rest until I'm done with my next meeting. Then I'm going to drive you home."

"I'm not–"

"I know you can take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean you don't need to sleep," Sam replied firmly, picking up the phone and quickly contacting Leo. "Yes. Cancel it. No. Cancel that too."

"Sam–"

"It's done." Sam stared down at Josh, eyes glimmering. "In fact, I happened to cancel my meetings for the day, too. Don't think for a minute you're going to be the only one getting away with this." He grinned, his concern almost masked by his attempt at good cheer. Josh really had to be exhausted; he didn't even have enough energy to be enraged by his decision.

"Sam, you–"

"Yes, I did." Sam grabbed Josh's coat and handed to him. "We're going to go to your apartment and we're both going to take the day off, that's what. And don't even think about bringing your – well, maybe you can bring your briefcase." He sighed and started piling Josh's papers up on his desk. Could the man be any more disorganized? "I was going out to lunch anyway, so I've already got my things."

"Sam, this isn't any good." Josh stood up again, still mumbling in protest. But he couldn't even work up enough strength to be nervous anymore. It was as if Sam's presence was shielding him, quelling the panic that had kept him going for days.

"Yes, it is." Sam picked up Josh's briefcase and handed it to him before patting his friend on the back and heading towards the door. Reluctantly, Josh followed. "Besides, you look like you're already sleepwalking."

"Shut up." Sam smiled and held open the office door.

"C'mon. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

"We're here."

Josh opened his eyes slowly, sliding back against the seat. Where was he? Sam's arm was on his shoulder, shaking him. Windshield wipers were swinging back and forth in front of him; rain was gathering on the glass.

"C'mon, you'll sleep better inside." Josh had been about to shut his eyes once more when Sam spoke again and tugged at the edge of his coat. "Wake up, Josh."

"Fine." He was mumbling, but it didn't matter. He had actually slept. He hadn't dreamed. He hadn't woken up. He'd slept! Josh rubbed his eyes, hoping he'd be able to go right back to sleep as soon as he got upstairs. Cars had always calmed him, after all. His mother had said that after the fire the only way she'd been able to put him to sleep was by taking him out for long drives on the freeway. Within a few years he'd gotten over it, but old habits died hard.

Josh turned his head to see Sam standing outside in the rain, beckoning to him. With a sigh, he gathered up his briefcase and stumbled out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Before striding over towards Sam he paused for a moment, turning around. The cars were moving slowly down the streets, mirroring the sluggishness of his thoughts and movements. The clouds were shifting through the sky, coating the city in a deep, darkening gray. The rain was splintering the headlight beams like broken glass.

Without his frenetic energy there to sustain him Josh suddenly felt a strange emptiness flood through him. Washed through with rain, Washington looked desolate. Josh had fallen in love with the city from the minute he'd stepped off the train, but today he could barely recognize it. The city that spread itself out before him wasn't sparkling with light. It was dull, dreary. Washington as he knew it had disappeared.

"Josh!" Sam had managed to sneak up on him again; this time the taller man took his briefcase out of his hand and then started towards his building again. "I know you just love the view, but I'm getting a little wet here." Josh sighed and quietly followed his friend into the lobby. A few weeks ago the rapidity with which he had gone from being completely frantic to being tired beyond belief would have perplexed him; by now, he was beyond wondering. A few weeks ago he would be worried about the work he'd left behind and the meetings he and Sam had cancelled and the bill that was going to be voted on in Congress today, but now it no longer seemed to matter, somehow.

A moment later the elevator arrived and the two men stepped into it. Josh leaned back against the side and waited for it to rise to the tenth floor; Sam cleared his throat uneasily, wishing he knew how to break the silence.

"Are you gonna want anything to eat? I was thinking of ordering some takeout," Sam said as the elevator doors opened. Josh shook his head. "You sure?"

"I'm not really hungry." Josh rested one hand against the wall. Once Sam unlocked the door he slipped inside and headed straight for the couch. He felt heavy, as if he was moving through molasses.

"How about some tea, then?"

"Okay." Josh pulled off his shoes and swung his legs onto the sofa. Hopefully Sam wouldn't mind, too much. He had always been rather particular about his possessions, and his apartment was frighteningly neat. "Sam?"

"What?" Sam was already in the kitchen; Josh could hear his footsteps against the tiled floor and the sound of running water.

"I'm sorry. About this." As Josh spoke he wondered, for a moment, if he meant it. It seemed irrelevant at the moment. It didn't matter that Sam had seen him panic; it didn't matter that Sam had been forced to take the day off to drive him home; it didn't matter that he was lying on Sam's leather sofa when he was soaking wet. His guilt ran far deeper than that, and Josh suddenly felt the urge to start apologizing for his very existence. He should have died twice over and he was still here, screwing everything up. The deputy shuddered, desperately hoping that he'd find away to express it all, to explain it, to redeem himself. But it wasn't possible. There was no way, he thought, closing his eyes and curling up under his jacket. There was no way…

"Don't worry about it. I'm always looking for an excuse to skip meetings anyhow." Sam was still in the kitchen. Josh mumbled something in response. "What was that?"

"Your sofa's getting wet."

"You made a bet?" Sam turned off the stove and poured the hot water into two cups. "Your tea's ready." Frowning, the younger man leaned out into the living room. "Josh? Your tea's – Josh! The sofa's getting wet!" Sam's eyes widened. Josh's dripping wet jacket was coming into direct contact with extremely high quality leather. What was he–

"S'what I told you."

Josh heard Sam step back into the kitchen, where he placed the cups back on the table and took a long, deep breath.

"Josh," he began, returning to his friend's side, "if you don't take that off in–"

Sam stopped abruptly. Josh's eyes were already closed.

"–five seconds, I am never letting you in my apartment again."

There. It felt good to say it, anyway. Sam sighed.

Then he got up, headed for his room, and started searching for his warmest blanket.


	3. Chapter 3

Josh awoke with a start. He was sitting up on somebody's sofa, a thin bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He rubbed his eyes and began scanning his surroundings, searching for something familiar.

"Josh? Awake already?"

"Sam?" Josh was breathing hard again. He had always had a tendency to overreact to sudden interruptions and unexpected noises; now they got pretty damn close to driving him into a panic. The deputy turned towards the source of the sound; Sam was walking through the kitchen towards him.

"How're you feeling?"

"You ask me that as if I was sick or something," Josh snapped, swinging his feet off the sofa to make space for his friend.

"No. I'm asking you because you, er, seemed kind of like you wanted to collapse when I brought you up here. I came to the conclusion that you were somewhat exhausted."

"I'm not."

"Not what?"

"Not exhausted. I'm not even tired. I'm fine." Josh paused for a moment. He wasn't even sure what he _did _feel anymore. His moods shifted so often and so dramatically that sometimes the only emotion he could identify was a curious numbness, as if he were watching someone else impersonate him from afar. Uncomfortable under Sam's scrutiny, Josh shifted in his seat. No, he wasn't tired anymore. The dream had shocked him out of that. Now he was nervous again, jittery. But there was nothing wrong with that, was there? What else was he supposed to feel after just having been shot at in a dream so life-like he swore that he could still feel the taste of blood in his mouth?

"You're doing a damn good imitation of it then." Josh sighed. Sam always fell back on his sense of humor when he felt ill at ease. The younger man gave him one last, long glance and then settled down beside him on the sofa.

"Thanks for the blanket." Josh sighed again. He hadn't meant for the words to sound so hostile. Everything he said sounded hostile these days; he never meant for it to. The harshness just seemed to appear there, whatever his intentions. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like an idiot. I know it." Josh's eyes narrowed; his fists clenched in frustration.

"That's a first." Sam raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard you say _that _before." After a moment's silence Sam got to his feet again. Had he been wrong to answer Josh so lightly? He had never heard his friend so disgusted with himself, so vulnerable. He stepped back into the kitchen. If he took him seriously, Josh would probably be angry at him for being too concerned; if he made light of his problems, Josh would probably feel that he wasn't being understood. And perhaps he'd be right, too. Despite having fought a brief battle with depression after a friend of his died during his last year of law school, Sam knew he had no idea what Josh was feeling now. One minute he was so tense he couldn't tap him on the shoulder without sending him into a frenzy; the next he was so sleepy he could barely walk straight; just three hours later he was awake again, claiming that he'd never been tired at all. "I've, er, still got your tea from before," he said at last. "Do you want it?"

"Okay." Josh had come to the conclusion that coffee was a really bad idea, but tea wouldn't do him any harm. He watched Sam stick his mug into the microwave. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Do what?" Sam was walking back towards him, two cups of tea in hand.

"This." Josh stared down at the ground. "Invite me over, let me sleep on your sofa, bring me tea. You don't have to, okay?"

"I know." Sam's tone was serious now. The younger man placed his friend's tea on the table by the sofa and sat down again. "I know I don't have to. I want to." Sam brushed back his hair.

"Yeah." Josh opened his mouth to continue and then stopped himself just in time. For once he'd keep his skepticism to himself. He'd been acting stupidly, to be sure, but he wasn't stupid enough to intentionally alienate one of his few remaining friends.

"Look, Josh." Sam tilted his head, staring Josh right in the eye. "You want me to be honest with you? I'll be honest with you." He paused. "You've been a real jerk lately. I've gotten quite close to yelling at you on numerous occasions, despite the fact that you've come in looking like you were run over several times on your way to work. You've insulted Donna. You've insulted me. You've insulted Toby. I think I even saw you insult Leo. You even–"

"I _know_. I know, okay. I know."

"All right then. So, I'll admit it. I've been pretty annoyed with you these past two weeks. But I haven't been nearly as annoyed as I've been worried. I don't understand what's going on, Josh. I won't pretend that I do. I talked with the ATVA guy, sure."

"Waste of time," Josh mumbled.

"It was _not _a waste of time. And you'd better not go in to see them with that kind of – okay, I'll stop now. I'm lecturing."

"Yeah." Josh heard the bitterness in his voice and hated himself for it. He'd be aiming for something more along the lines of sarcastic, but sometime during the past two weeks he'd sort of lost sight of the difference between lightly making fun of people and being downright malicious.

"Josh." Sam began to speak and then leaned back against the sofa, allowing the silence to swell out into the room. "I'm sorry."

"What do _you _have to be sorry for? I'm the one who has to be sorry here! I'm the one, okay?" Sam sighed. Josh's voice always rose in pitch when he was stressed. But more than that it was the _urgency _he heard that frightened him, as if–

"No. I mean, no, that's not – look, Josh. I wish I knew what was going on. I wish I could _do _something, okay? It's just – even today, one minute you looked like you were ready to bite my head off. Then you were terrified, and then exhausted, and now you're nervous again and I just don't know what–"

"Everyone gets nervous."

"You nearly panicked when I called out your name from the other room. When I move quickly you flinch." Sam's gaze softened with dismay, concern. "I've been noticing it for a while now. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know what to say." Josh shook his head.

"Nobody said you had to _say _anything or _do _anything, okay? It's not your _problem_." It was his problem, if it was even a problem anyway. The scene he knew he'd caused in his office a few hours ago already felt hazy and distant as a dream. The nightmare he'd just had about the shooting seemed realer.

"I just–"

"What?" Sam kept starting sentences and neglecting to finish them; it was beginning to get on his nerves. Did Sam think he was going to shatter at the slightest provocation? Sam probably thought he was losing it completely. But he wasn't losing it completely; he wasn't losing it at all. Josh felt a pang of pain rise through his chest. He had probably forgotten his pills in his office. In fact, he'd definitely forgotten his pills in his office. He took a deep breath. It was almost better that way, though. At least the pain in his chest was simple. It made _sense_.

"I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me, I mean, just – just so that I could – could understand, I suppose." Sam paused. "The guy from ATVA told me – well, in the office it kind of – you were panicking, and it sort of seemed like you were, er, remembering – he said you might have flashbacks." As a speechwriter, Sam usually felt pretty proud of his ability to express himself eloquently. The last time he'd realized he sounded this stupid was when he was dumped by his first girlfriend in the fourth grade.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't want to talk about it," Sam repeated. "Okay." Sam gestured towards Josh's tea. "Your tea's getting cold."

"Yeah." Josh picked it up and took a sip; the taste was subtle but sweet. "It's good, thanks." He paused again. "And yeah. What you said."

"You remembered it?" Sam tried to keep the tone casual, as if he didn't really care much at all. Josh nodded.

"Yeah. I felt like–"

"Like you were there again?" Josh nodded a second time. "It kind of seemed like that. Does it – does it, er, happen a lot?" His attempt at the casual tone wasn't working out too well.

"Not that – well, yeah." Josh took another sip of tea and then looked back up at Sam. Speaking about it was at once infinitely relieving and incredibly scary, somehow. "Do remember reading David Hume in your early Poli Sci classes?"

"Sure." Sam knew Josh well enough to realize that this wasn't one of his usual diversionary tactics. He did those more skillfully; bringing things up out of the blue was too crude for him, too obvious.

"The other night I was going through some papers and I found an old book I must have never returned to the library." Josh paused; Sam leaned back against the sofa, waiting for him to go on. "I was sort of looking through it, and it had a bit from _A Treatise of Human Nature_." Sam nodded encouragingly. "He said that – that people were just – just 'a bundle or collection of different perceptions.'" Josh took a deep breath, struggling to remember the rest of the text. He'd even copied it down twice. "Different perceptions which – oh, forget it. I can't remember the rest."

"David Hume, the dead end of empiricism." Sam grinned. "I remember. Not word for word, of course, but the general gist of it." Hopefully he hadn't been wrong about Josh intending to say something significant about this. Just when he'd finally gotten him to talk about it he'd decided to start a discussion on David Hume, of all people? Sam shook his head; then he turned back towards Josh.

"Ah – wait." Josh's face brightened a bit. "I remember it now. 'They are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement.' I wrote it down a few times." The deputy's face fell again as he finished the quote, and he continued more slowly. "You remember it, right?" Sam nodded. "I kind of – I kind of, you know, feel like that."

"Like–"

"Like I'm just – I'm just – well, like that." There was no continuity anymore, Josh thought. There were so many feelings forming from nothing; so much fear and anger and destructiveness just flooding through him when he least expected it. Everything he'd always trusted and liked about himself was disappearing; it was almost as if _he _was disappearing, overall. But he couldn't say that. There was no way he could say that. Sam probably thought he'd gone off the deep end as it was. He couldn't explain it anymore. They were only thoughts, anyway. Strange thoughts and feelings never did anything to anyone, not unless they acted on them. And he wasn't going to act on them. He wasn't like that.

"Okay." Sam drank down the rest of his tea. Josh had just compared himself to David Hume's definition of the human personality, or, rather, lack thereof. If he was supposed to draw any deeper conclusion from it, Sam sadly had to admit that he was missing the point. Asking him what he meant by it was probably just a recipe for disaster, so…

"Yeah." Josh shuddered slightly, wiped his forehead, and got to his feet. He was still sweating, still nervous. Pacing helped, sometimes.

"Er, Josh?"

"What?"

"I'm not, I mean, I'm not making you, er, nervous, right? Or–"

"No, it's not you. Just kind of – haven't been sleeping much. I don't know. It'll be fine," Josh replied. "And next time you want to ask me something just say it." Just say it. Okay, Sam thought to himself. I should just say it, so that you can snap at me for it and stomp off, furious. The younger man felt a flash of frustration. The ATVA guy had asked him whether or not Josh had been "irritable, and prone to inappropriate, angry outbursts." That was one question he had answered yes to without even a moment's hesitation. Still. Even if it wasn't his fault, it wasn't as if–

"Fine then. Do you want to stay here or do you want me to drive you home now?" As soon as he said it, Sam wished he could rewind time and take it back. He hadn't meant it that way. He had just wanted his friend to feel comfortable; he hadn't meant it to seem like he wanted him to leave. "Josh – I didn't – look, it's been no problem – and if you want to stay, you're welcome to." The hurt look was still there. "I ordered some food, and I was going to sit here and eat it and watch television. I wasn't trying to kick you out. If you want to stay and eat and watch television with me you're welcome to." Sam sighed. Josh wasn't stupid; he could probably tell how awkward he was feeling about everything. It was just so hard to know what would set him off and what would hurt him and what would–

"What're you gonna watch?"

"Hmm…good question. I think Law & Order's on. Then there's a hockey game on channel five, and one of those teenage dramas on – well, Law & Order sounds good to me. You?" Josh nodded, stepping back towards Sam and settling on the couch.

"Okay." Sam reached over and softly patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Okay." Sam paused. "I'm glad you're here." Josh smiled, weakly.

"Me too."

**Once again, the quote included here is from _A Treatise of Human Nature_ by David Hume.**


End file.
